


The Ninja Encyclopedia

by auditoryeden



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: 100 Themes Challenge, Angst, Cross-Posted to FFN, F/M, Family, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 04:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 14,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9802361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auditoryeden/pseuds/auditoryeden
Summary: Because Yuffie loved life and Vincent lived life and together, they shone brighter than the stars.





	1. Introduction

"There might be monsters! Or vampires! And this place is really creeping me out! My ninja sense is tingling," Yuffie babbled. The dark caves curved in a way that reminded her too much of home. The Fire caves of Da Chao, a winding maze, were just like this. After all, Da Chao meant Chaos.

They had reached a door. "Um, Cloud...Please tell me we _won't_ be going in there...?" His blue eyes found her face, twisted in fear, and he shrugged.

"Cloud!" she protested loudly. He pushed the door open, and she shuddered. Something was behind that door, and it would change their journey, effect their quest beyond repair. She peeked around his shoulder, and there, smack dab in the middle of the floor, was...A coffin.

She muttered under her breath, "Oh joy. More spooky monsters." Yuffie cringed as Cloud walked across the room and broke the lock on the box. And screamed when her worst fears were confirmed and a tall, scary guy jumped out. "A vampire!"

The tall man's eyes were drawn to her, a puzzled frown flitting across his brow. His irises were red. She cowered, moving back, towards the door. He returned his attention to Cloud, who wasn't even fazed, probably because of all the weird shit he'd seen in ShinRa.

"Who are you, to wake me from my nightmare?" Yuffie noted the tone of his voice, the inflection of his words, and his accent. Soft, ashy, a voice that threatened and soothed at the same time, like a razor sharp blade wrapped in layers of flannel and satin. He talked like...her father...all old-timey stresses, and proper grammar. As he continued to talk with Cloud, and the rest of the group fidgeted (most were as uncomfortable as Yuffie, if not more), she noticed something else. The faint lilt of an accent that took her a moment to place.

Wutain. Her eyes widened again. He spoke with her accent.

"Sephiroth!" The strange man's eyes narrowed, anger blazing behind the red. "You know Sephiroth?"

Cloud answered, "Yes. We're searching for him. Why?"

Tall Dark and Creepy closed his eyes. "Lucrecia was the mother of Sephiroth. That is my sin. I could not stop her."

_Now, that is a sin..._ thought Yuffie. He was responsible for the monster they were hunting?

"I could not convince her not to use her child for the experiment," he continued. _Convince? That is what he's accusing himself of? Not being able to change someone's mind?_ Under her breath, Yuffie snorted. His eyes snapped back to her face, but now she met his gaze with a glare. If he couldn't even stand up to his own failure, he should quaver in front of her.

"What interests you so about my face?" he asked.

She glared harder. "Just thinking that you're kinda pathetic if you think Sephiroth is your fault just because you couldn't talk him mom out of using him as an experiment."

He met he glare and returned it, as what she would soon come to know as Vincent Valentine's Patented Glare®, full force. "I should have convinced her. I was..." he sighed and looked away.

The unspoken words hung in the air between them, Yuffie and this man whose name she did not know. _"I could have, if I'd tried harder." "It is my fault." "I failed."_ She nodded. Yuffie knew what it was like to fail.

Cloud cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "AVALANCHE, this is Vincent Valentine. Vincent, this is AVALANCHE. Tifa, Barret, Cid, Red XIII, Yuffie, Cait Sith, and Aeris," he introduced, pointing at each respectively. A murmur of hello's, then awkward silence.

He-Now-Known-As-Vincent turned to Cloud. "If I joined your group, I could find Hojo?"

"Well, I can't guarantee it, but we're searching for him, too." Vincent nodded, contemplatively.

When the group left the Niebleheim Mansion cellars, Vincent went with them, Yuffie's eyes always watching him, an occasional mutter of "creepy vampire" issuing from between her lips. By the end of Day One with Vincent, she had jokingly dubbed him "Vinnie". He prayed, with a shudder, that it wouldn't stick.


	2. Love

At one point, when Yuffie was more comfortable around the dark gunslinger, she decided she needed help. With her feelings towards Cloud. So, she turned to the only member of AVALANCHE who could help her and also wouldn't tell Cloud.

"Vinnie?" She plopped down next to him one night, while all the others were soundly asleep. He cringed at the use of the nickname, but turned to her, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, Yuffie?" She squirmed, trying to find the words for her question. He sighed. "Go back to sleep, Yuffie. We'll be up bright and early in the morning, and you have first watch tomorrow night."

"I need to ask you something!" she protested quietly. He stared at her. She gritted her teeth, shut her eyes, and spat out, "How do you know if you're in love with someone?" He blinked.

She opened one eye, relaxing her jaw.

He blinked.

She opened the other eye.

He blinked.

She squinted at him.

He blinked.

" _Excuse me_?" Had he heard right? She was asking _him_ , the generally acknowledged worst guy at love, _ever_ , for help with _romantic feelings_.

"You heard me, Vinnie. How did you know you were in love with...um, Lucrecia...?"

"I never said I was."

She glared at him. "It's all over your face whenever you mention her."

He sighed his defeat. "I suppose...I felt...happy around her. I wanted to protect her, to take away her pain. To be the shoulder she could cry on, if need be. It was very rarely pleasant. Because of Project Jenova, she was preoccupied and under pressure. She said that, if she should become pregnant, she would volunteer the fetus for the project. When she was forced to choose who the father would be...She chose Hojo, the lead scientist of the project."

Yuffie Glanced at him shrewdly. "Part of you wishes it had been you, huh?"

Vincent shook his head. "Not really. I just wish that she could have loved me in return. Her prior attachment to my father...drove us apart."

Silence settled comfortably between the companions. Yuffie was lost in thought. Love meant that you wanted to protect a person, wanted to be the shoulder for them to cry on. To make them happy. Being happy around them.

She thought. Did she want to protect Cloud that way? Did she really care enough? But he always seemed capable. She took him at face value. He was a tough guy who was fucking scary in battle. She idly let her mind wander. Was there anyone whom she felt that way for? As a girl, her mother, but that wasn't quite the same. Aeris? Yes, but as a sister. Who did she really want to save, was there anyone whom she'd draw close and comfort, whose tears she'd kiss away?

 _Vincent_ , she realized with a start. She felt that way about Vincent sometimes. When he'd let down part of his guard and tell her things, when painful memories would twist his beautiful face, when the occasional nightmare rent his sanity. She'd seen him, sitting, thinking, tears streaming silently down his face one night during her watch. She'd wanted, in some way, to wipe away his tears, because they scared her. He was supposed to be unattached. A constant. And if Vinnie was different...

Since when, she asked herself, had she come to rely so heavily on his presence? Sitting beside him, she felt safe, the demons of her heritage and duty kept at bay by his silent welcome. Sitting with him, she felt that her father wouldn't find her, that she wouldn't have to face her own sins. Maybe together, they could keep their pasts away. After all, love was a powerful thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I wrote this nearly eight years ago, I was a tiny baby who had never been kissed.


	3. Light

"Come on, Vinnie! Don't be such a spoil sport!" She bounced ahead, the ends of her forehead protector fluttering behind her as she danced down the hall. They were staying at the Gold Saucer; Yuffie wanted to see the sights and Vincent had somehow gotten roped in, as he was the only one who could stand the ninja for any length of time.

"Remind me again why you wish to visit this noisome place," he intoned.

She turned, glaring at him. "What does 'noisome' mean?"

Vincent raised an eyebrow at her. "Nauseating. Fetid."

"Ew." Yuffie continued to flounce down the hallway, towards the bright lights and the smells of fast food and grease. He cringed and followed after.

He found that since she'd come to him, asking what it felt like to be in love, she'd grown quieter around him. Her presence was slightly comforting, and he'd begun to notice the small quirks about her that the others hadn't bothered to try to see. The way she spoke to herself in flawless Wutain, how she bit her lip endearingly when she was trying not to blurt something out, the slight sadness in her smile. How, no matter how carefree she acted, there was always a shadow behind her eyes.

"Vince! Hurry! I wanna see the gondolas!" She'd circled around to grab hold of his gauntlet, tugging him along. But the bright smile seemed a little desperate. Actually, a lot desperate. He looked around as she pulled him, searching for the cause of her discomfort. All he could see in the square was an announcer, a couple who seemed to be from Costa de Sol, and a group of Wutains, a few teenagers and their parents.

"Yuffie, what-"

"Shhh!" She yanked him along, breathing a sigh of relief as they stepped up to the gondola ticket booth. Yuffie asked for two, payed up, and dragged Vincent onto the little cable car thing. Sitting down opposite him, she leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes.

"What was that, Yuffie?" he asked. Ruby irises watched her cringe, then as a slight shudder wracked her body. Suddenly she was crying, violently. He panicked.

He could kill monsters. He would happily hike through the Niebleheim mountains. But he couldn't deal with a crying girl. Lo, the irony.

"I-I can't let them see me! One of them might have-have recognized m-me! I can't go back there, I can't let them see me...n-not now..." She didn't know why she did it, but she flung herself into Vincent's arms, her tears soaking into his cloak. He paused, then wrapped his arms around her. He could hold her as she cried, at least.

Her tiny frame shivered as sob after sob issued from her mouth. His arms tightened around her, muttering nonsense words into her hair, cradling her until the profuse tears slowed. She simply sat on his lap, letting her forehead rest on his shoulder.

Finally, he spoke.

"I won't ask what that was about."

She turned her tear-stained face up to his and the look in her eyes unnerved him. Yuffie was staring at him as though he alone was her light in the world, while felt exactly that way about her.

"Don't leave me behind, Vinnie. Please."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, I was like fourteen when I wrote this, please don't judge.


	4. Dark

The monster charged straight at Yuffie. As she hurled Conformer, she idly thought to herself, _of course he'd send us all off in different directions_ _ **just**_ _when all the nasties would attack..._

She crouched behind a boulder, catching her breath in painful gasps. Conformer was stuck in the creature's flesh, hanging like a comical ornament. Vincent was sheltered behind a neighboring rock, reloading Death Penalty. She heard a muttered curse as he searched for a fresh clip. So absorbed in watching him was Yuffie, that she didn't notice the monster's hand swooping down to pick her up.

An abrupt scream shocked Vincent out of his panic. There was Yuffie, being held by the odious monster, shrieking like a banshee, kicking, biting, and unable to move her arms.

A sigh escaped his lips before he could stop it. She was such a _child_ sometimes.

He reached for the Death Penalty, only to remember that he _didn't have any bullets left_.

"Shit." His terror and anger were growing, and Chaos was gaining strength.

 _Let me out, Vincent. I can save her..._ He closed his eyes, fighting for control. He could not let him out.

"Vincent! What the Hell are you doing? HELP!" she screamed. He suppressed the monster that was clawing it's way out of his mind.

Another wail drew his eyes to her face, and what he saw terrified him. She was being suffocated by the creatures strong grip, some ribs were probably broken, and her skin was going faintly blueish. Tears were streaming down her face as she screamed in desperation. _Look at that, Vince. Just gonna watch her die, are you? And here I thought you didn't want to be like me..._

"Vinnie!" That cry was the final straw. Chaos ripped through his body, and he didn't fight. There was no other way to save her. Even if she'd hate him after...

Yuffie watched with light-headed horror as Vincent _exploded_...

Actually, what her oxygen deprived mind saw wasn't explosion, so much as complete transformation. Vincent went all _purple_ and his cloak turned into wings and suddenly his eyes were yellow and alight with a terrifying demonic rage. He was intimidating, he was frightening...he was terrifying...

And then he was swooping right at her. Despite the manic glint in his un-Vinnie eyes, she wasn't as scared as she later thought she should have been. Claws ripped through the monster, and Yuffie dropped into Chaos' arms like a limp, soiled rag doll. The sudden rush of oxygen nearly blacked her out. Vincent's demon plucked Conformer neatly from the hideous monster and deposited both her and it on the ground nearby.

Vincent knew that Yuffie was out of harms way. And now, he began to fight for control. Once the immediate threat of the monster had passed, Chaos would turn on Yuffie...and there was no telling what would happen. He might curl up in a corner of Vincents mind and relax, like a cat, or he might kill her.

The creature was torn to shreds with one good rip from his talons. That surge of victorious euphoria was the springboard that allowed Vincent to take control. Chaos found himself being jammed back into his itty-bitty "living space" in the back of Vincent's mind.

Yuffie could see, through the thickening haze of pain, that Vincent looked normal again, if a little battered. She took as deep a breath as she could, and squeaked out, "Vinnie?" His eyes flicked back to her, and as he sighed and pulled out a level 2 Restore materia. He kneeled at her side and began casting Cure2 on her various wounds. His eyes were dark with...sadness? Anger? Exasperation? She couldn't tell...

As she really started to loose consciousness, this time from sheer mental exhaustion, she heard a mutter.

_"I'm so very, very sorry Yuffie..."_

She wondered, what for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me, I was but a babe when I wrote this.


	5. Rot

I was in little contact with Geostigma at first. I was safely closeted away in Wutai; it was something happing on the mainland.

Then it came to our small island, and all Hell broke loose.

Everyone thought that Geostigma was just a thing that happened in Edge and the surrounding Old Midgar. But in reality, it swept through other places like the plague. The first time I knew it had reached my homeland had been when, out walking, I'd heard a little boy crying, "Mommy! My skin is melting!" I looked over at the child, saw the fetid green-ish tinge of the Geostigma, that dread disease that they had blown off, disregarded as unimportant.

Within a week, nearly fifty percent of the children ages four through eight had the Geostigma. My father was in a panic. Some teenagers had it as well, and since I had been exposed to both excessive quantities of mako and Jenova, I was at high risk. My father was more concerned with the thought that Wutai might be left without an heir than the thought of me, as his daughter, dying.

I was isolated "for my own good". Basically, that meant that Daddy Dearest locked me in my apartment with my fifteen cats and forbade me to leave.

When the call came from Tifa, I laughed out loud. Freedom seemed so close! I had been locked away for nearly two weeks, and I relished the thought of seeing my friends. And Vincent.

I packed a bag, stashing a change of clothes, my kunai and shuriken, and, of course, an almost mastered materia set. When the Shera came to pick me up, I was gone so fast my dad probably didn't even notice for a day. Then again, he doesn't care to begin with.

When I heard that Cloud and Denzel had the stigma, I was shocked. Geostigma was supposed to be the Planet punishing us for all the mako use, but those two had already been put through so much...

And then I saw you, and you were still fucking scary, and I thought, _Well, if you're alright, that's okay then._

And you were tall and forbidding. And I couldn't stop feeling like you were going to make things better again. But the only fighting any of us did besides Cloud was when we, just you and me, tag-teamed one of the Remnants. That was serious-shit fun.

So, Cloud beat them. The Remnants, and therefore Sephiroth, were gone gone gone!

And the rain came, and that huge pond opened up in Aeris' church. He cured the children, and I cheered, and you stood there and looked...like you do when we all save the world. Kinda happy, but awkward, and those weird eyes of yours are always a little crinkled at the edge, like you're smiling under all the fabric.

And it was all okay. The rain fell all over, and all the children, even in Wutai, were cured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extremely rare example of First Person. Again, I was a freshman.


	6. Drink

"Vince! Vinnie! C'mon!" Vincent looked at his friend with distaste. "I'm reading," he responded before looking back to his book.

"But _Vinnie!_ I've just turned eighteen! You _know_ I'm allowed to drink now!" Yuffie bounced up and down in front of him, puppy eyes turned up to maximum. "I've never even had a shot before!"

"Yes," agreed Vincent, "you have not. This is why I do not believe it is wise for you to start now."

She scowled at him. "Well, I just thought that since you're, like, immune to alcohol, you'd be the safest person for me to go get drunk with...but I guess if you won't come I'll just go alone." She turned and flounced out of the room. Vincent watched her with eyes wide with terror.

* * *

Idly Vincent wondered if that had been her plan all along; ask him to go drinking, and when he said no, threaten to go by herself.

"And and-and so I said, 'I AM THE GREAT NINJA YUFFIE!" and he like, ran screaming and— _hic_ —" the giggling ninja slumped over her glass of rum and coke. _Pretending to be completely hammered is fu_ _n,_ she thought, an evil look coming across her face and vanishing into her totally accurate impression of someone well on their way to alcohol poisoning. She knew for a fact that there was no way _she_ could get drunk off of just two rum and cokes. She had, after all, gone out with Tifa _on her birthday_ and proceeded to drink the barmaid under the table. But Vinnie didn't know about that.

"Yuffie, I think you have had enough," Vincent said as delicately as he could. Yuffie only grinned happily and burst into incoherent laughter. The barman leaned over the counter and said, "She just turned eighteen?"

Vincent sighed and continued to watch Yuffie. "Yes. Just last week, actually."

"Ah, so you're playing the responsible one and taking her out to get drunk so she'll have someone to protect her?"

Vincent again sighed, and this time looked at the man, who was grinning apologetically. "She threatened me." Upon viewing the incredulous look on the barman's face he elaborated, "She asked me to take her out drinking, and when I refused, she threatened to go alone."

"Ah," the barman nodded understandingly. "She your sister or something?"

At this Yuffie burst out laughing. "Me? Vinnie's— _hic_ —Vincent's sister?" She continued to laugh and sway while Vincent twitched slightly at the idea.

"Ah, no. Yuffie is just a friend of mine," he responded brusquely.

The barman looked panicked. "I didn't mean to offend or anything, it's just, you look so alike and—"

"It's quite alright," Vincent sighed. "I suppose I should get her home now."

"Let her have her fun. When she wakes up tomorrow, she'll know what the price is for drinking so heavily, and then she'll have learned her lesson. At least," he grimaced, "That's how I learned mine."  
Yuffie, pretending to catch only some of the conversation chimed in, "Yeah— _hic_ —Vince! Let me have fun!" She downed the rest of her rum and coke and held out the glass to the barman. "Can I have another?" she asked as cutely as she could, turning puppy eyes to full blast. This part was essential.

"Um...sure," he broke to the pressure and turned to fill it again.

"Vincennnnnt?" Yuffie whined. He looked at her with one raised eyebrow. "Yes, Yuffie?"

"Vinnnnnncent?" She slumped onto his shoulder. "Yes?" he responded.

"Viiiiiiiinceeeeeent?" She turned her huge eyes up towards his gaze. Large and limpid and pleading, they said, deep in their gray depths, _You sir, are doomed. I am plotting horrid things for you. I will make your life hell. Have fun!_

He sighed and raised his gaze to the heavens. "Yes, Yuffie?"

"Viiiinnie, why aren't you— _hic_ —drinking?" She grabbed his arm and began to press her torso against it. All his muscles tensed, unused to female touch. And, a certain Chaos flavored part of his mind noted, this was _very_ female touch.

The bartender put her glass back down, full up with rum and coke, and moved away to serve another customer. "Thankies!" she called after him. "Hmmmm? Vinnie? Why aren't you drinking?" She pressed her chest into his shoulder again, with increased vertical movement. Another (false) hiccup wracked her frame, causing her breasts to rub against his arm again. Pretending to be hammered _really_ had it's perks, she reflected. For one, she was actually coherent enough to enjoy both the physical sensations of her actions and Vincent's total discomfort.

"Yuffie, I am not drinking because one of us at least should remain sober," he responded, mentally groaning at the effect Yuffie was having on him. Or maybe, Chaos-flavored mused, that was _just_ the effect she was having on him.

"Sober— _hic—_ shmober! You can't get drunk, I _know_ you Vinnie!" For added effect, she bounced up and down in her seat a few times, letting her reasonably sizable cleavage do the talking for her. Vincent tried very hard to think of a way to get out of the situation, preferably without getting himself into a _lot_ of trouble, without drinking. He could find one.

"Fine." The bartender was passing, and he asked for a whiskey on the rocks, his only alcoholic beverage of choice besides good wine, which he doubted he'd find in this establishment. As the bartender set the drink down before Vincent, Yuffie, still in her deeply discomforting position said, "Hey Vinnie! For every drink I drink, you have to have two. Kay?" He nearly choked. "Yuffie I believe you'll find that that defeats the purpose of me even being present." She turned her face, eyes completely wide, and said the intrigued bartender, "Vinnie's ruining my fun!"

"Aw, it's her birthday binge," the bartender cajoled. "And it'll be her birthday hangover tomorrow."

"Fine." Vincent shot back the glass with distaste. Even as she released his arm to slump back over her own drink, in her head, she started counting.

* * *

Two rum and cokes (and about six cokes-sans-rum, but she wasn’t supposed to have noticed when the bartender cut her off) and twelve or so whiskies later, Yuffie was almost sober and Vincent was listening to her jokes with his limitless source of patience.

"So, so-s-so, hey Vinnie, whadaya call a boomerang that doesn't work?"

He sighed. "I don't know Yuffie." The bartender looked on in admiration as Vincent took another sip of his whiskey, hand perfectly steady, speech absolutely clear. "A stick!" Yuffie exclaimed before draining her glass. Vincent sighed as the bartender filled both their glasses again. The whole fucking _bar_ was taking bets now.

"Hey, hey, Vince! Vinnie McVin Vin Valentino! Why was the chocobo happy!" Yuffie mentally rifled through her archive of really bad jokes. That was it... She had decided. When Vinnie smiled at one of her jokes, he was buzzed. If he snorted he was tipsy. If he _laughed_ , then he was as good as hammered.

"I don't know Yuffie."

"It's `cause everything was _egg_ celent!"

"That's nice Yuffie." Vincent slammed back his glass of whiskey, almost hoping that the alcohol undoubtedly making up almost half his bloodstream by now would actually take effect. He was fairly sure that she was trying to find out how much it took to intoxicate him. She was telling him bad jokes, and so was probably judging his drunkenness on his reaction. He figured he'd give in soon.

"Hey, Vinnnnnnie! Whadaya get when you cross a snowman an' a vampire?"

With unerring instinct the bartender refilled Vincent's glass. "I don't know Yuffie."

"Frostbite!" She fell into a giggling heap at her own words. While she began to turn blue from laughing too hard, the bartender sidled up and said quietly, "Right now, that couple down the bar are up to two _thousand_ gil on you two. The book's running twenty-three to one you. I believe those guys have a pot totaling ten thousand gil on it." Vincent turned a disbelieving eye on him. "Best to quit while you're ahead," the barman, nodding at Yuffie. He the sidled off to take care of the large group of about seven men he had just pointed out to Vincent.

"Ahahaha! Heya, hi, Vince— _hic—_ ennnnnt! What lies at the bottom of the ocean and twitches?"

"I continue to not know, Yuffie."

"A nervous wreck!" To her great surprise, Vincent snorted. Sober to _tipsy_? But mostly she just thought, _success_! She tallied up in her mind the number of drinks he'd had. Twelve...plus two...it took fourteen drinks to get Vincent Valentine tipsy! She put part five of her plan into action.

"Viiiiinceeeent...I'm...so...tired..." She lay her head on the bar and yawned. This was partially true. Playacting the part of an inebriated Yuffie was more exhausting than she could have imagined. "Vinnie, can we _go now_?"

"Of course, Yuffie." He finished his glass and waved over the barman. A short conversation resulted in Vincent's turning over a quantity of gil and the barman wondering at the man's ability to even move with as much alcohol in his bloodstream as he most definitely had.

Once their tab had been payed off, Vincent shook Yuffie, who picked up her head, chugged the rest of her not-rum and coke, and walked out next to Vincent, affecting a drunken stagger. She was not faking, however, when she collapsed sideways into his arms due to sheer tiredness.

Well, it had been a valiant effort on her part, Vincent mused, carrying a sleeping Yuffie back to Seventh Heaven at two-thirty in the morning, but Vincent hadn't been drunk since before the modifications, and god knows he'd tried since.

His current record involved five bottles of gin.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehh, I was young. Also had never touched a drop of alcohol at that point in my life. Sigh.


	7. Insanity

Chaos was trying to take control, fighting him, his mind against his mind, and Vincent could feel himself dying inside.

"Vinnie?" Yuffie's voice pulled him back from the edge. He looked at her from the corner of his eye. She saw past the threat in his eyes, to the turmoil within. "Vince? Are you...?"

He shook his head very slowly. No, he was not alright. _I'd kill her first, Vincent. You know that..._

"Oh, Vinnie..." She kneeled to be face to face with him, her hands gripping his shoulders, leaning in so her forehead touched his. Both their eyes closed. He found tears leaking out from under his eyelids. _Oh, that's right. I'll kill her. Blood, blood, blood. I'll drink her blood and eat her heart out and listen to her scream scream scream..._

He felt fingertips on his cheeks, swiping at the tears. "He wants to kill you, Yuffie," he whispered. "You should leave..."

He got his answer when she pulled him closer, tucking his head against her neck. "You let me cry, Vincent. Now it's your turn."

Unlike her, his tears never shook his body, only spilling from his eyes, his skin burning where she'd touched it. At first, she held him. But as Chaos' rantings increased, he drew her very close, placing her head in the crook of his throat, clasping her tightly as she embraced him.

"Yuffie..." _Death death DEATH! I'll kill her! I'll kill you! Blood blood bloodblooooood! I'll kill you all, you pathetic-_

"Vincent?" She looked him straight in the eye. He kept their gazes locked as he leaned closer to her. Her hands ghosted up his chest, one lying flat on his cheek, the other resting on his shoulder.

When their lips met, Chaos screamed, and then faded. The only thing in Vincent's mind was Yuffie, her taste and smell and the feel of her body against his.

As they begrudgingly broke apart, she looked up at him, questioning.

"He almost won, Yuffie. You are the only thing standing between me and pure insanity." The wondrous joy that he had been spared called more tears to his eyes. Yuffie leaned in closer and kissed them away.

"Then I'll just always have to be there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unhealthy relationship dynamics like WHOA but as I mentioned before, I was like fourteen. This re-posting process is a really interesting insight into how much I've changed both as a person and a writer.


	8. Break

"Ow! Fuck! Ow! Ow ow ow!"

"Yuffie!" Tifa called.

"You alright, brat?" added Cid.

"No!" Yuffie squeaked, holding her arm at an odd angle from her body. Vincent, the closest person, stuck his head round the door to the stairwell at Seventh Heaven.

"Yuffie, your arm shouldn't bend at that angle. Also, you should only have three joints, wrist, elbow, and shoulder, not four."

"Yes, Mr. States-the-Obvious. I _know_. I'm feeling it," she forced through gritted teeth.

"You've broken your arm," he continued. "You've also fallen down the stairs."

"Yes! Vince! I _know!"_ She broke off and wailed softly, her eyes closing. He sighed and moved over to lift her, being very careful to grab her by the unhurt arm and the waist. Once she stood, he guided her up the stairs and into his room, where he sat her, mewling, on the bed.

"Viiiinie…oh god, it _hurts_ …." She uttered the statement with a horrible breathlessness that sounded like she was being strangled.

"Just a moment, Yuffie. I need to get the Cure from the First Aid kit." He dug through the kit with rough hands, unable to find one measly materia in the vast mess that was his First Aid kit. His movements grew jerkier as he listened to Yuffie's shallow breathing, punctuated with pathetic whimpers, quickly bitten off. Finally his hand closed over the green orb and he sighed with relief.

Making his way back out to Yuffie, he beheld her now curled into a tiny ball, broken arm practically purple with bruising. "Yuffie," he said, "I need you to sit up. This will hurt quite a lot at first. I have to realign the arm."

She sat up and turned a face of utter horror to him. "Vincent…" she protested weakly.

"Enough," he told her. "I will hold you down if I have to. Your arm need fixing. I can do that and restrain you at the same time." His eyes told her he was neither exaggerating nor joking. He was deadly serious.

She held out her arm and grunted at the sensation. Quickly, Vincent unstrapped his gauntlet and flexed his fingers, two hands of flesh reaching for her arm. Her breathing jumped and her whimpers increased as he took hold of the limb. Gently, he felt for the fracture and began to pull at the two sides of the bone. Yuffie let out a horrible scream, and then fell into tortured silence. She screamed again as Vincent probed with his fingers to check for any larger shards broken from the bone. He soothed her with soft mutters she couldn't quite understand as he matched up the two side of the break and felt along the bone while holding it still with one hand. Then, still holding her arm perfectly stationary, he reached for the Cure material and quickly cast Cure3 on her arm, watching as the bruising faded, hearing Yuffies breathing slow with the relief from the pain, and feeling her bone knit together under the skin and muscle, bruises fading into her skin as the speeded healing process devoured the blood. Soon he was holding an arm unblemished by anything visible, creamy china skin under his pale fingers.

Yuffie tried to tug her arm back, but he held onto to her, observing the shape of her arm, checking for any misshapeness. Then he ran fingers along the length of her upper arm, pressing on the flesh to feel the bone beneath. Finally satisfied that the injury was totally healed, he released her and began pulling his glove and gauntlet on. When he turned back around, he was surprised to find Yuffie still standing there, looking contrite.

"Yuffie?"

"Vincent." Just his name, unshortened, not changed at all. He pausesd to look at her, and he could see her eyes were red from tears of pain unshed. "Thank you."

Her message given, she turned around and walked out, and he heard her walking down the stairs slowly, carefully.

He barely noticed that his fingertips were abnormally warm from her skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty icky, I don't know how I feel about it, but hey, I wrote it (when I was fourteen).


	9. See

Yuffie groaned and dug her head deeper into Vincent's side. "My eyes are _burning_ , Vinnie! How are you so calm?"

"Yuffie," he sighed, "You knew that those two had been on a date. You chose to drag us to Shelke's today. It's your own fault." In spite of this sentiment, he placed an arm around her prone form and drew her closer.

"I know that, but Shelke told me they hadn't got past first. I didn't expect him to still be there, and I didn't expect them to _still_ be going at it!" she protested. They fell into a silence. Then Yuffie spoke again. "Kinda reminds you of that time Teef walked in on us, doesn't it?"

He laughed very softly. "Yes, I suppose it does."

She grinned and pulled her head up, rolling over so she could look him in the face. "As awkward as that encounter was, we did have some really great sex."

"So vulgar." But he eyed her tolerantly. It had been some really great sex, made all the better by their mutual forced celibacy of over eight months. Yuffie sighed, then pulled herself up a little to kiss him quickly. "Love you," she muttered, then sank back so her head was on his lap, facing him. He stroked her face softly for a moment before she continued speaking.

"I mean, they're this really sweet couple, and that's great but…The Bossman and Shelke? I really didn't….ever….need to know that, y'know? Let alone see it." She shuddered.

Vincent smiled very gently behind his collar, his hand sliding over hers. "Yuffie, just because they seem like very calm, and I dare say, dull people in public does not mean that they remain so behind the closed—or mostly closed—doors of the bedroom." He gave her a pointed look to underline the statement "mostly closed".

"But I didn't need to _see_."

"I think we can safely agree that that was completely your fault."

Yuffie glowered, but nodded. "I know. But still."

"What Yuffie?"

"Reeve certainly has a pasty ass."

She couldn't hear his laughter, but she could see it dancing behind red irises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This didn't make me want to take my eyes out with a spoon when I read it over. Go fourteen-year-old me.


	10. Under

At Seventh Heaven, at three A.M., a scream rent the night.

Vincent sighed and began to count. _One...Two...Three...Four...Five...Six..._

When his count reached seven, the door creaked open, revealing a teary-eyed Yuffie.

"Vincent?" she asked, voice trembling.

"Yes Yuffie?" It was like a script now. Five months after Sephiroth's defeat, and they had acted out this scene every night, since her nightmares began. She woke up screaming, he waited seven seconds, she entered, seeking shelter.

In the first few weeks, he had always run to her, but when he left, she always followed him. Finally, they just got into the routine.

"Can I sleep here tonight?"

He sighed a little. As if she even had to ask. For some reason she seemed to feel that, despite five months' sharing of sleeping space, his permission was still in question.

"Of course, Yuffie."

This broke a little with the established script. Normally he just responded "yes" and left it at that.

"Of course?" she asked as she clambered awkwardly into his bed. "Why of course?"

He moved over a little, creating room for her next to him. Yuffie snuggled into the warm hollow left by his body and allowed him to put an arm around her. "Because you have been sleeping here for the last five months," Vincent responded. "You don't really need to ask anymore."

Yawning, she dug her head into his shoulder. "I guess that makes sense. I just feel like...like I'm imposing on you or something..."

"I have grown to expect your nightly intrusions. I doubt I would be able to sleep without them, at this point."

"Oh."

They lay in silence for a moment, Yuffie beginning to play with a lock of Vincent's hair.

"I don't mind if you simply wish to sleep here, instead of waking up every night," he told her cautiously.

Yuffie felt her lips twitch a little. "It's definitely a thought. I can see it turning into an idea, possibly a plan. Could we try making one of those in the morning?" She had been wanting to ask him for weeks, but asking Mr. Gentleman-McGentlemanly if you could sleep with him every night, as in, go to bed with him, was daunting.

He laughed at her foggy voice, and assented. She yawned again, then sighed a little, tucking her whole body against Vincent's. Her arms were around his torso, and his arms held her as well. He thought about how their intimacy was so tied to her nightmares. Somehow, his presence was the only thing that stopped her waking up in tears, throat raw from screaming.

It was just good luck that his bed was so narrow. That they had to curl to tightly against one another to stop from falling out of the bed. Vincent might have been old, going on sixty, but his body still relished the feeling of Yuffie's little frame against his. She didn't seem to mind either, and since that first morning, when they'd woken up in each others embrace, the physical closeness hadn't been an issue. To her, it even seemed like a comfort, something she relied upon, always crawling into his embrace.

Once Tifa had found them asleep together. Vincent's bare chest and Yuffie's scant clothing, only a camisole and shorts, had convinced her she was walking in on something. It had taken almost an hour to explain to her that there was nothing between them, and by the end of that time, somehow all of AVALANCHE thought they were sleeping together.

In a sense, this was true, so they simply sighed and ignored it. Well, Vincent sighed. Yuffie giggled a little uncomfortably and apologized, but woke up in tears that night and came to him anyway.

The continued evidence of their relationship, marked by several more incidents of the, "Hey Vincent, wake u—Oh my god!" variety, did nothing to convince the group that Yuffie and Vincent weren't moving in the same direction as Cloud and Tifa, but much more quickly.

Yuffie's nightmares persisted, and a certain few—Tifa, Shera, and oddly enough, Denzel—seemed to understand that only Vincent helped her sleep.

He sighed as he watched her breathing even out, felt her heartbeat slow. Her tiny little body was so warm, so seemingly-fragile. It was like holding a delicate glass orb filled with sunshine. The warmth and comfort of her touch was starting to lull him to sleep as well, and he struggled to keep his eyelids from drooping.

Vincent had only enough time to press a light kiss to her forehead before he lost the battle against unconsciousness.

The pair lay, breathing almost in rhythm, as the sun filtered through Tifa's net curtains. The depth of their sleep was broken only when Tifa arrived to rouse them, finding Yuffie with her head comfortably cushioned on Vincent's chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is downright acceptable.


	11. Lurking

Yuffie feels that awful, awkward prickly sensation that people get when they're being watched. She's used to it by now—the feeling has been going on for years now, and she figures that if the watcher was going to harm her, they'd have done it by now. Then again, she thinks, she might also just be crazy.

The only time the watching stops is when she's with AVALANCHE. After the Remnants are defeated, she returns to Wutai for a bit, and there the tingly feeling starts. It bugs the crap out of her, so she looks all around for the watcher.

Needless to say, she never finds them.

On the anniversary of their first defeat of Sephiroth, she leaves her dad with the promise of an eventual return, and goes to Edge for the AVALANCHE reunion. She is chased by the tingly watching feeling the whole way.

The feeling goes away the moment she steps into Tifa's bar. She is greeted by the busty barmaid and Cloud, their adopted spawn running around and hollering. She laughs at Denzel's outstanding new hairdo, rainbow-colored from ribbons and clips, and laughs with Marlene as she crows over her creation.

Roughly half an hour later, Vincent arrives. He is travel-worn, and wont tell anyone where he's been, but they are all happy to see him anyway. He drinks a sedate glass of whisky at the bar with Yuffie sitting next to him and chattering. Finally, she tells him about the watcher she's never met. Vincent raises an eyebrow, but tells her that he's sure if it's a sinister thing, she'll be fine taking care of herself. She laughs, agrees. She says she knows she can take care of herself, but she still wanted to tell him. He smiles a little, and she is pulled away by Marlene.

That night, her watcher returns, and she feels the tingling recommence. She shrugs her shoulders, crawls into bed.

She is awoken by the absence of the watcher, and makes her way to Vincent's room, where she has stayed every night in the bar since the Meteor.

The watcher doesn't return that night.

After the party, she decides to go visit Wutai for a month or two before putting on her traveling shoes again. Staying put for so long has made her restless, and she's finished her ninja training. She leaves Seventh Heaven, and within two hours, the tingle of the watcher is back. A sigh and an eyeroll are her only reactions.

A month later in Wutai, she received a call from Tifa. Vincent, she was informed, had left the same day she had, and no one had seen or heard from him since. Yuffie laughed. Vincent was always disappearing.

Four months later, when she is camped in the jungle near Gongaga, she finds a Grand Horn dead by her campsite very early one morning. It definitely hadn't been there the night before, and it looked as though it had been killed by a person. There were bullet wounds, but she knew that a gun's sound would have woken her. Puzzled as she was, she decided the watcher must have killed it.

The knowledge made her feel safer. Still, the next night, she stayed in an inn.

She returns to Edge for the first anniversary of the Remnants' defeat, passing through Wutai to check in with her father. The tingly watched feeling leaves her about a day before she enters the town, and she is a little disappointed to feel the tingling cease—the watcher seems almost like a protector, feels like a friend.

Walking in Edge the next day, she sees Vincent at the guns and ammunition store. She calls out, and joins him in haggling over the price of bullets for Cerberus. Hours later, she collapses into bed by his side, barely noticing the lack of her watcher. She rolls over, grins at Vincent sleepily, and enfolds herself in his embrace.

When she is next traveling, she goes to Nieblehiem, Coral Canyon, and Rocket Town. In Rocket Town, she stays a night with Shera and Cid. The prickle goes away while she stays there, but picks up the moment she exits their house. That night, she turns in early, not having been able to sleep without the omnipresent sensation of the watcher. Just before she falls asleep, she finds herself basking in the gentle tingle like warm sunlight.

It continues. She visits people, the tingle turns off, but mostly she is followed by a silent, faceless watcher, who guards her at night.

One month she is staying with the recently married Tifa and Cloud. She fidgets, twitches, can't pay attention to anything; her watcher is not there.

She nearly cries with relief when Vincent shows up, on the fourth night of her stay. She collapses into his arms and wonders why she is no longer bothered by the lack of her watcher.

Very shortly afterward, she ceases to care about her watcher.

A few days afterward, she is sitting with him on the steps outside the bar, talking. He announces that he wants to start traveling again. She asks if she can go with him, and the sun cannot outshine her smile when he agrees.

As they travel Gaea, stopping here and there, Yuffie misses her watcher less and less. Traveling with Vincent, learning him, puts all thought of the watcher out of her head. After all, she can sleep in Vincent's arms every night.

They speak often, watching the stars until late at night, moving far and wide during the days. Yuffie often wonders how she ever lived otherwise.

He often knows about her past travels, things she's fairly sure she's never told him. Once she is driven to invasive curiosity.

"Hey, Vince, how _do_ you know so much about me, anyway?"

He shrugs. "I lurk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UnhEALTHY relATIONSHIP dyNAMICS like WHOA. Also, cookies to the person who intercepts the tv reference in this one.


	12. Citric Acid

Yuffie booted up her shiny new laptop and headed for her new favorite site.

The site was called "fanfictionnet", and she was absolutely thrilled with it. This concept of altering reality to fit with fantasy was totally her thing.

She'd even found a celebrity section, and to her delight, there were lots of "fanfics" for AVALANCHE.

As she clicked open their section, she decided to play with the parameters. Choosing different characters from their adventures, she checked out the stories for Tifa and Cloud, happily browsing through stories both ridiculous and not.

After a few more innocent combos (who knew that so many people thought _Cid_ and _Vincent_ would make a hot couple?), she put herself in, along with Vincent, just to see how many pages they had.

Pages, she had learned, were in direct proportion to popularity. The more you had, the more popular you were.

She checked the parameters again, _Vincent V., Yuffie K.,_ and hit "go".

The sheer vast number of pages dedicated to the worship of Yuffie snogging Vinnie made her balk a little.

Scrolling through the page, she quickly discovered the "couple name" that had been painstakingly devised for them.

"Yuffentine?" she mused aloud. It had something of a ring to it, she had to admit...

She idly messed with various options at the top of the screen, story length, complete or not, and finally reached the ratings. She'd never altered the standard "K+ - T" that the site imposed. When she opened the drop down menu, she discovered two additional ratings, K and M.

"What's M?" she asked herself.

When the page had reloaded the first thing she noted was the number of pages, which was still quite considerable.

The first story was a complete story of one chapter, a "one-shot", entitled "Steam and Velvet".

The title didn't seem all that great, and the summary read, "Yuffentine lemon! Lime! Citrus, citrus, citrus! PWP! Enjoy! :DDD". Yuffie opened the story anyway, and the first paragraph left her gaping.

_She moaned breathily into his mouth as his human hand cupped her breast. The heat of the night..._

"Holy Leviathan," she breathed. The ninja princess read on, drawn into the text with morbid fascination.

She leaned close to the screen and her eyes grew wide as she continued to read, the words winding themselves into her thoughts and painting pictures on the insides of her eyelids when she blinked.

Vincent, naked and warm, holding her and...

She resolutely diverted that particular track of thought and plowed on. The force of will required to stop herself having dirty thoughts about Vincent became too much, and she hastily clicked the "back" button, vowing silently never to read another "lemon" again.

At least, not one about Vincent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The snark was strong with this one. Even at fourteen I was hyperjudgemental, and I hadn't even learned to proofread yet.


	13. Old

"So, Vincent, how old _are_ you, anyway?" Tifa asked. Yuffie shot an amused glance at her fiancé of a year. Then her purple sunglasses fell down off her forehead and onto her nose.

Cloud passed Vincent another glass of whiskey, which he accepted with gratitude.

"Um, Vince is...kinda," the ninja wrinkled her nose in distaste, "old."

"Like, how old?" Tifa's voice was guarded. Another glance.

Vincent took a gulp of his whiskey-on-the-rocks, and wished, not for the first time, that alcohol affected him. "I was twenty-seven when Hojo shot me and used my body for his experiments. I spent thirty years in the coffin."

"And he's spent almost five years _out_ of the coffin, in AVALANCHE," supplied Yuffie.

Cloud raised an eyebrow while Tifa looked aghast. "Twenty-seven...plus thirty...is _fifty-seven_...plus...five...You're _sixty-two!_ " Vincent nodded mutely.

Cid swore loudly. "Damn vampire's too old! Too damn old for the fuckin' ninja princess brat, that's for damn sure!"

"Isn't that pedophilia?" asked Reeve.

Yuffie, at this point, was turning bright red, and was pressed up against Vincent's side like a cat. "Um...isn't that only if one of us is underage?"

"It's still lolicon," Tifa cringed out.

Yuffie choked on her daiquiri. "Lolicon? _Vincent?_ " After swallowing a gulp of alcohol, she defended,"Lolicon is a fetish thing, Teef, which, for your information, we are not into. However, _we_ are in love, and it just happens to be that Vincent is...way older than me. Physically, anyway." She pulled a face.

"Many people are _a great deal older_ than Yuffie," Cloud pointed out.

She stuck out her tongue. "I love you, too, chocobo-ass. Anyway, Vince is only like five years older than me in his head, and that's normal."

"But he's... _old!_ No offense, Vincent," Tifa quickly amended.

He gave her a steady glare before grinding out, "None taken."

"But you two, y'know," she lowered her voice, "have _sex_."

Yuffie grinned. "Did your mother ever give you the _talk_ , Tifa?"

"Ewwww!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have to confess, this is not as it once appeared on FFN. I was too appalled by it, it's now been altered on both sites because regret is real.


	14. Do Not Disturb

"Cloud!" Tifa called, "Come on! We're going to go see Vincent!" Cloud wrinkled his nose and pulled himself out of bed. How could he help it if he'd been out late on a delivery last night? So what if it was two in the afternoon? He should be allowed sleep.

"Cloud! _Cloud_! Are you listening?" He heard her stomping up the stairs to their shared room. _Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. SLAM._

"Cloud, I'm warning you..." her voice, very close now, was threatening. He decided that response was his best option.

"Mmmflrmm," he muttered eloquently. Tifa sighed angrily, then yanked his blanket off. Blinking owlishly into the light, Cloud glared balefully at Tifa, the one who had disturbed his rest. "Fine," he spat back, and waited. She stared at him.

"I'm not going to change with you in here," he pointed out.

Tifa smiled at him. "Well, then. I'll just be going." She turned to walk out, then pivoted on her heel to scoop up his blankets, parading out of the room.

"Damn..." he muttered. She'd learned all his tricks.

* * *

Yuffie was stationed by the door in Vincent's apartment. Shelke had called her only minutes before to inform her that Vincent had left the debriefing, and was headed back to his rooms. She had also informed Yuffie, rather smugly, that she was no longer on medical leave, and free to undertake any physical activity she wished. Or, as Yuffie immediately perceived it, sex. She heard his key turn in the lock, and her breath caught in her throat. Excitement bubbled through her body, to the very tips of her fingers.

The door opened. She hurtled towards him, winding her arms around his neck, and kissing him, effectively glomping him. His clawed hand threaded through her shoulder-length hair, pulling her closer, but then he pulled back. His eyes were soft, but she could read the fire behind his irises. He was glad to see her, ecstatic, maybe, and he wanted her. But not yet.

"Yuffie..." he whispered. "I...missed you." She felt tears in her eyes, overflowing. "I missed you, too, Vinny." They stood, and finally, he shrugged off his pack. He rolled his shoulders, and Yuffie began to massage the muscles there. Brushing away her attentions, Vincent leaned down and claimed her lips in another sweet, joyful kiss. His tongue slid out a bit, tracing her bottom lip so lightly that he seemed to be begging for entrance. That was wrong, she thought. He should never have to beg her. Her lips parted in a rush of warm air, and their kiss deepened. His unarmored hand pressed the small of her back, and she arched up to him. Who cared if he was over forty years older than her? He certainly didn't look it. He didn't act it, either.

She grabbed at his cloak, stumbling backwards and dragging him with her. He pressed her against the wall, kissing her more passionately. She smiled against his lips. Her plan of seduction was working.

Vincent could tell, from the movements of her lips, her torso, she was trying to seduce him. He had known she would try since he saw the "Do Not Disturb" sign on his own door. Not, he reflected, that it would take much doing, considering the length of time since they had last had any physical relations, including kissing. A soft moan from her lips drove him closer to the edge. He swept her tiny, lithe little form up against his own frame, cradling her and kissing her as he strode towards his own bedroom.

She giggled a bit as he lifted her, but the strength behind the move, how he seemed to find her weightless...it left her gasping. She began fumbling with the clasps on his cloak as soon as they crossed the threshold to his room, pushing the material back over his shoulders. It whispered to the ground. He kicked off his boots, while she pulled the knot on her headband. He reached for the buckle that held her shirt together, and unfastened it. That joined his cloak on the floor.

Clad in a pair of orange shorts and a bra, Yuffie let out a minute sigh as Vincent laid her on the bed, then looked down at her with loving eyes.

He watched her, lying there, disheveled and tempting, and a thought struck him. He loved this woman more than anything else, more than he could even conceive. This woman, Yuffie, she would bear his children one day. He would marry her.

"You're beautiful," he said. She blushed lightly, then reached up and tugged on the zipper on his shirt.

"So're you, Vincent." He snorted, and let her continue removing his shirt. She let it fall as well, then he reached to unbuckle his gauntlet. The moment the armor had released his arm, she pulled him back down to her with a kiss, pulling the headband from his hair. It fell in his face, and he no longer looked at all scary or intimidating. He returned the kiss one hundredfold, and her fingers tangled in his long, long, silky hair.

* * *

Cloud trudged up the corridor with Tifa, Cid, and a very pregnant Shera. He ran a hand through damp locks. What had he done to deserve being doused with cold water? Slept in, apparently. He reached Vincent's door first, and hesitated.

"It says, 'Do Not Disturb.' Someone's written "under any circumstances, ever,' in little letters underneath the normal bit." Tifa bent to look at the handwriting. "That looks like Yuffie's writing. I think we can probably go in, though. It's Vincent, after all."

"Yes but if the sign is anything to go by, it's Yuffie too, and...well..." he paused, trying to think of a tasteful way to put it, "Do you realize how long it's been since they last saw each other?"  
Tifa waved the insinuation away. "So we might walk in on a little kissing. It's no biggie."

Shera, having caught on to what Cloud was saying, added, "No, Tifa, maybe we should give them some alone time."

"We'll be fine, Shera," Cid said gruffly. "And I ain't got any time today to be visiting Valentine and the Ninja brat `cept now." He turned the knob, and pushed the door open. It met interference with a thump, but he shoved it anyway.

They filed into the hallway, and discovered that the obstruction was Vincent's pack, left by the door.

"Vincent?" Tifa called. A creak issued from what was his bedroom, and Cloud could swear he heard heavy breathing. He watched with apprehension as Tifa walked towards the bedroom. The door was closed. She knocked. "Vincent?"

* * *

The pair froze when a knock sounded. "Vincent?" called Tifa's voice. She apparently decided that if something was wrong (Vincent never just left his things around), that was more important than privacy. The door swung open, and Tifa poked her head around the door.

Of all the things Tifa thought might be on the other side of the door, this was not one of them. The sight that met her eyes was...interesting, to say the least. Clothes and various bits of gear were strewn around the floor, and on the bed...Well, a sheet thankfully covered the two forms from the waist down, but other than that...

Vincent was hovering over Yuffie, both of their bodies bare, long dark hair unrestrained, frozen, staring at the door. Yuffie's arms were around his shoulders, and his were holding up his weight. His hair fell over his shoulder on one side, acting like a kind of curtain. A backdrop, sheltering both their faces...but on the wrong side. They made for a dramatic picture, and a shocking one.

Tifa withdrew her head, snapping the door closed once more. She turned mechanically, and walked straight back towards the exit.

"Tifa, what's wrong," Cloud asked. She turned, looking at him with a pained expression.

"Yuffie. Vincent. Sex."

"Ah," he said, comprehending. "Do not disturb."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I'm cackling right now, but I am. This is decent enough that I may even have been as old as sixteen when I wrote it.


	15. Two Roads

It could, she figures, have gone either way. Maybe Vincent wouldn't have stayed up with her after Aeris died, or maybe...

Well, let's just say, they might have killed each other five minutes into the quest.

Opposites do not always attract. Sometimes, they repel, and when forced together, will not adapt and learn to love each other, but reject, and, snarling, and destroy each other in futile attempts to get away.

Yuffie is wild, bright and boisterous and everything Vincent cannot stand. She screams and laughs and moves like a monkey, capering around him with grace and style, until she trips and goes flying headfirst towards the ground. She calls him a vampire, finds all his weakest points and sticks pins into them, drives him insane.

Vincent is calm, quiet, and morose. He prefers to sit and brood, and his silence turns Yuffie's skin to insects, making her babble and dance with greater intensity, as if to make up for it. In his cabin, he broods, on missions, he fights. That is his mantra, his routine and security blanket.

Then, she becomes the security blanket.

It happens, one night on a mission. Yuffie wakes up screaming from a nightmare, and Vincent runs in, finds her cold and crying and shivering in her blanket, and he knows the feeling. His nightmares are always quiet ones, and he wakes alone and terrified in the dark. She is lucky, he thinks, that she is loud in her nighttime terrors; someone will always hear, always come.

So he comforts her, and they sit outside the tent that night, on watch together. She cannot sleep, he doesn't dare to try.

After that, it's only a matter of time. Yuffie's cries draw Vincent before anyone else, and by the time Tifa and the others have arrived he is already soothing her. She clutches him and sobs, and the others leave, bemused.

This goes on for months. Then, one night, Yuffie wakes, no scream on her lips. She makes her way to the ship's canteen, looking for tea. Usually, on nights like this, Vincent is there. She doesn't know why, or how, but her sleepless nights line up with his.

Tonight, he is absent, his empty place conspicuous. She doesn't know why, but she is driven to find him. She is used to following her urges, so she doesn't question.

She ninjas her way to his room, which he shares with Nanaki. The door is not locked, but a tiny theif-y part of her wants, really, really badly to pick the lock anyway.

Thank god, the hinges don't creak as Yuffie pushes open the door, and she steals into the tiny room. Nanaki is curled on one bunk, and on the other is Vincent.

He is...well, he's a sight. Vincent lies, bare chested, his gauntlet piled on top of his leather shirt and cloak and boots. His skin is so white it glows; she knows he doesn't produce melanin properly, an unexpected side-effect of the experiments. Like the snow princess in one of the fairy tales her mother had told her, his black hair laid against his skin, ink black. In this moment, he is monochromatic, his eyes closed.

His breathing, she notes, seems laboured, and he is tossing, his legs tangled in his very thin blanket. Then the tiniest noise, and she is suddenly terrified for him.

A whimper.

It is all of a second before she is across the room, soundlessness forgotten, shaking him awake. He resists her, at first, shoulders tightening, but then he wakens to her pleads, and his eyes open.

Yuffie has never been happier to see them in her life. White as snow, red as blood, black as ebony, and she grabs them all close and cries.

Vincent holds her as she cries. It is strange, but holding her is a comfort. As Nanaki awakens to find Vincent and Yuffie curled in each others' arms, he finds that her crazy, wild, colorful life is all he needs to pull himself out of his nightmare.

Years later, at their wedding, Yuffie flounces her way down the aisle, leading Cid, with her father scowling in the seats to one side, and Vincent hears her mutter to her favorite foul-mouth pilot, "You curse and I'll kill you," and smiles.

She could have driven him crazy. He might have let her cry alone. Things might have been different. But really, they're both glad that they aren't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was definitely not fourteen when I wrote this. I barely even needed to edit it for posting here.


	16. Cut

Standing in the darkness of the cave, watching the cool green glow of the mako crystals...Vincent felt sad.

Admittedly this was often the emotion he could be labeled with, in this scenario. His typical emo sprawl on the cave floor, the sad-eyed stare...This was pretty much Vincent-autopilot.

But today was different. He sighed heavily as he closed his eyes against the glow, and then he spoke to the dead woman, encased in her crystal tomb.

“I do not love you anymore, Lucretia,” he said. “Not as I once did.

“I was young once. Stupid, naïve. Foolish to believe that you loved me. But I've finally found her. She's amazing.”

He subsided. Lucretia remained unresponsive as ever, her benign little smile a desperate facade. Water echoed as it dripped, dripped from ceiling to floor. Silence stretched in the blackness.

“Her name is Yuffie.” Vincent smiled peacefully to himself, mouth hidden behind his ludicrous collar. “Yuffie Kisaragi. She's the Princess of Wutai, though you'd never know it by watching her. She's about as graceful as a dropped rock when there's no battle to fight. But when she faces a monster, she practically dances.”

Again, he falls silent. Lucretia indulges him a period of reflection, maybe happy recollection by the expression on his face.

Then Vincent stood. “I love her,” he announced. “Perhaps I don't owe it to you, but I feel I should tell you anyway. I love her, and I'm going to marry her.

“Not that that didn't have its stumbling blocks,” he reassures the dead woman. “Her father has a minor sort of campaign out for my head. Yuffie and Reeve found some old document that proves I came from one of the old noble families—the Nara or something. Apparently my mother was never formally disowned, so that made me eligible to marry the heir to the throne.” A humorless laugh. “My mother returned to her people after my father died. I never knew that, until now.”

He paced. Lucretia waited. Vincent paced some more.

“When we first met I thought she was the most irritating child,” he confessed softly. “But I went with them to protect that child. Then she whipped out her knives and defeated three monsters in one go. It took me til then to realize she didn't need protecting, she needed a straight-jacket.”

Now there was real humor in Vincent's voice. “Yuffie...is insane. Crazier than anyone else in Avalanche, and that is saying something. She bounces off the walls, and she's loud, and she prides herself on being obnoxious. I hated her, at first. And she seemed so young. She is young, but no one can deny that she has seen things far beyond her years. And here I am, fifty, sixty years old...I'll never know why she loves me, but somehow...she does.”

The note in his voice is young, wondering, under the deep bass of his tone. It should break Lucretia's heart to pieces that she harmed his so much that when he finally found the love of his life, he could barely believe that she'd love him back.

But Lucretia is dead.

“The wedding is next week,” Vincent told her. “I'm here to say goodbye.” A pause. “For good.”

The tall, dark man walked forward, leant his forehead against the smoothed, polished surface of Lucretia's crystal, and murmured a quiet farewell that was easily covered by the miscellaneous sounds in the cave.

“You ready?” Yuffie asks him, as they exit the valley where Lucretia will spend the rest of her eternity.

“Yes,” Vincent sighs. “Let's go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a more metaphorical interpretation of the prompt. He's "cutting" his ties with Lucretia, and his past.


	17. Plus

Vincent opens the door to their shared flat, hangs his WRO pack in the closet, removes and stashes his gauntlet, and slips out of his boots. There is a small, persistent noise at the edge of his hearing, and his gunslinger's senses are tingling. Where's Yuffie?

He makes his way to the kitchen, and there is his wife of six months, crouched over something on the coffee table and babbling quietly. As he moves closer, Vincent is able to make out the garbled words, “Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit.”

“Yuffie?”

She jumps and turns, hiding something behind her back with one hand, scratching the back of her neck with the other. “Hey, Vinnie!”

Her tone is forced, so bright it almost blinds him, and desperation is pulsing under the words like a heartbeat.

This alone is enough to set Vincent on high alert. What has she done now? What is she hiding from him, and why does she look like she's been crying?

But of course, as her husband, he knows not to take the direct route. “Are you alright, Yuffie?”

“Oh, I'm fine, totally fine, I'm just dandy, never been better!”

“Only you seem a little...tense.”

She is edging away from him now, keeping one hand firmly behind her back. “I just missed you, is all.”

“I see.” The look he sends her is pointed. “I missed you as well, Yuffie.”

She giggles madly, and makes a break for the bathroom door. In an instant Vincent has circled her waist with his arm and seized the item in her left hand.

She squeals, but the sound isn't teasing, it's scared. “Vince, no—!”

He stares at the thing in his hand. “Yuffie,” he begins, voice hushed. “Yuffie, is this...?”

She nods miserably, and he looks between it and her with an expression of disbelief.

After a while, he asks, “Why are you so upset?”

Yuffie snorts. “I don't know how to be a mom, Vinnie.”

He stares at the small white stick in his hand. One tiny blue plus. Their whole future changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh.


	18. Mother

She is tired and sweaty and her shoulder-length hair is a mess. There is blood in places she didn't know it was possible to bleed, and she has aches in muscles she didn't know she had.

She is tingling with exhaustion and joy and satisfaction.

Yuffie is a mother now, and she's not quite sure how she's going to pull that off, but she's got a lifetime to learn.

Tifa and Shera are the only others in the little shoji room now, having recently expelled Vincent to locate their other friends, who are holed up in the guest rooms at the Pagoda.

“She's beautiful, Yuffie,” Shera comments fondly, brushing a hand over the new baby's forehead and smiling benignly.

Yuffie smiles tiredly and holds out her arms. “Gimme,” she demands. “My baby.” Tifa snorts and Shera complies.

“Cid hogged Buddy when he was first born,” she remembrance. “I doubt you'll have that problem with Vincent, though. He's good with kids but he understands the mommying behavior.”

“Yeah, well,” Yuffie grins down at the newborn. Her tiny eyes are closed and she's squalling in the way of new babies. “I should feed her, right?”

“Yeah,” says Shera the Mom, and guides Yuffie on how to hold her new daughter and allow the child to breastfeed. Tifa sighs wistfully at the scene. The other women, older and younger, notice and give her sympathetic looks.

“It sucks that you're having such a hard time,” Yuffie says. “I mean, I didn't even want kids, but we decided we'd just let it go and see what happened, to appease Godo, you know, and here she is.”

“That's alright,” Tifa smiles sadly. “If we're meant to have kids we will.”

None of the women mention the possible drawbacks of Cloud's past mako exposure.

“So what are you going to call her?” Tifa asks after a while.

Yuffie shakes her head. “Who knows. Wait until Vinnie gets here, speaking of which,” she says pointedly, “ _what did you do with my husband?_ ”

“We had to clean you up, he was in the way,” Shera shrugs. “We sent him to tell the others.”

“Great,” Yuffie snarks. “You do that. Can I have him back now please?”

In answer to her prayers, the shoji door slides open and there is Vincent, looking harried.

“Yuffie,” he says, crosses the room and kneels on the tatami next to his wife's futon.

“Hey Vince,” she yawns at him, and she allows him to scoop herself and the baby into his arms, where she cuddles while still letting the infant feed.

They study her tiny face for a while before Vincent asks, “Which do you think?”

“Shizuko,” Yuffie says decidedly. “A remembrance and a hope for the future,” she adds with a grin.

Vincent shakes his head. “She won't be a quiet one,” he says, examining his daughter's facial features minutely. “Too much like her mother.”

“Asana then?”

He smiles. “Asana.”

They kiss over Asana's head, then Yuffie leans her head against her husband's shoulder and drifts as her daughter nurses.

Even when their other friends pile into the room, even when Godo comes to meet the new third-in-line, she just leans and smiles, and knows that she can do this after all.

She has Vincent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in my incredibly elaborate headcanon (the same headcanon in which all of these vignettes are set), Vincent's mother was a Wutain lady named Shizuko. I've also been informed that the name means "quiet child", which is certainly what you want in a newborn. I don't remember what Asana means, but being who I was at the time I wrote this, it probably has some greater significance.


	19. Gone

She'd, no, _they'd_ , always thought that he couldn't die. Wouldn't die. But now…

Yuffie stared at the grave site before her. Her eyes traced the characters on the front of the slab, with it's offerings of rice and incense and flowers. How could this…this cold stone be her husband's grave? How could this place be what he was reduced to, his love and his fire and his life? Ninety-five years in the world, thirty years by her side, two children, beautiful girls…

And now Vincent was dead, gone, whatever. Killed by a bullet, some crazed, obsessed kid who thought he'd show the world up for doing him wrong, like so many tried to.

Most people, read, those outside of AVALANCHE, believed Vincent to be about five years older than Yuffie. Her father was not among them, which had been a point of contention when he'd applied for the other man's permission to marry his daughter. So many people had lamented his death, because he was _so young, that poor man, dead at fifty-five._ Oh, and his widow got pity as well, more than she could handle. Still so young for such a tradgedy, and just after her father died as well. Her eldest daughter not even in the home, living a continent away, and her younger just seventeen, more of a burden than a comfort.

The people, especially the women, of Wutai pitied her all the more because she had no sons. But that didn't matter to Yuffie; it wasn't as though she wasn't going to take the throne anyway.

Two slim women in well matched white kimonos made their careful way to the kneeling woman by the graveside.

"Kaa-san?" Asana asked softly, kneeling by their mother's side and sliding an arm around her narrow shoulders.

Chiaki followed suit and knelt on Yuffie's other side, taking her chill hands and sighing, as all three women watched the grave.

After a while, other members of AVALANCHE began to approach Yuffie and her daughters, and their children came with them. Tifa, holding her husband's hand and looking as though she was about to cry, was one of the first to reach the grieving family.

“Yuffie,” she chokes, and Yuffie doesn't respond immediately. Cloud catches up to her, and cuddles her into his shoulder, leading one of the many, many orphans by the hand. This one is a tiny girl, and she stares around with an air of discovery that breaks Yuffie's heart.

Vincent was not around much when Asana was that age, tiny and bright eyed. There had been an uprising, and he'd been called away to do WRO stuff there. He'd been exhausted when he was home and exhausted when he wasn't. Yuffie wasn't allowed into the field while Vincent was there; they barely saw each other, the only conversations whispered in the dark.

He was there for Chiaki. They were both still on missions, both still helping Godo run Wutai, since frankly the old man couldn't do it himself anymore. They were actually in Wutai at some point during her terrible twos, when she was rambunctious and hyper and basically exactly like her mother had been.

People say that curiosity killed the cat. It didn't kill this cat, just cut her up pretty badly.

Curiosity struck in the form of the Nara clan sword that sat on Yuffie and Vincent's shared family altar. He only followed the religion of Wutai half-heartedly, but as he wouldn't let himself wield his family's sword, the one his mother had given to him before she died, the shrine seemed as good a place as any.

The long, high quality blade was set about a handswidth out of the saya at any time. Chiaki had been warned never to touch the thing, and Asana had been told to watch her.

Asana had thought she had rather better things to do.

The upshot of this was that Yuffie and Vincent heard a sharp scream and then the sound of a little girl crying. They'd run to her, panicking, and Yuffie had nearly passed out when she saw her little girl, covered in her own blood, a mother's worst nightmare. Her tiny baby hands lined with welling red, a similar slice on her leg. That night, long after Chiaki had been cleaned up and treated with Cure, Yuffie had sobbed herself ragged in her husband's understanding arms.

Tears well in her eyes now as she thinks about it, remembering the feel of him, arms she will never feel again. Understanding eyes, long, warm hands, those were the things he'd used, time and time again, to comfort her, to arouse her, to support her and occasionally restrain her. Hands clasp hers now, but they aren't Vincent's, and they never will be again. Yuffie feels the raised lines across the palms and fingers, marks that had inexplicably never faded from her daughter's hands, and there on that ground, in front of Vincent Valentine's grave, she has never felt colder, deader, more alone, than she does surrounded by the warmth and life and love of all her friends and family.

The gloomy sky catches her eye for a moment, as a bird circles across it, and then her eyes look down again, over the cliff and over the valley of her world. It would be so easy to throw herself off the edge and meet him again at the bottom, Yuffie thinks. In all her years, she has never been able to understand why death would appeal to anyone. Certainly there are fates she thinks would be worse—spending eternity trapped in Nero's darkness for one—but the allure of ending one's own life had never shown itself until now.

But Vincent wouldn't have wanted that, she reminds herself, as she slowly begins to realize her knees are aching from sitting on the stone and her throat is aching from tears, Vincent would have told her to keep going.

Yuffie sits and thinks about this, barely noticing her daughters' ministrations. It isn't that Vincent wouldn't forgive her weakness, it was that he would. That he would accept her shame and love all the more for it. It is the fact that her—Leviathan, she can't even think it—late husband is, _was_ , so much the better person in their pair.

So she sits in front of the cold, dead stone that represents his cold, dead body and her cold, dead heart, an aching canker on the landscape, a hollow, because even though Yuffie Kisaragi might seem to go on, her soul is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo ho ho and a bottle of angst. Sorry, friends. It had to happen.


	20. Breaking the Rules

"Damn, damn, damn, damn!" Yuffie cursed as she dragged Vincent down the hall. Her feet flew, determined to outrun the clatter of her father's ninja along the hall behind her, Vincent carried along involuntarily in her wake.

With a triumphant shout, the ninja Princess wrenched open a door in the wall and used Vincent's unwilling forward momentum to swing him into the space beyond, allowing herself to be towed behind him, and the door crashed closed behind them.

The room—if you could call it that—behind the door was pitch black and, as the two occupants were increasingly discovering, very small.

"Yuffie—" Vincent began. She hushed him, and then the clatter of running footsteps came level with the broom closet in which they hid. Vincent practically held his breath as he stilled, heart hammering against his ribs, and his ninja friend pressed tight against his chest as she shook with silent laughter.

The footsteps stopped, and Yuffie pressed herself closer against Vincent, her hand creeping up in the pitch black to place a single silencing finger against his lips. She trembled with soundless giggles as they listened to the guard puzzle over where she might be; Vincent was privately thankful that none of this group were terribly bright.

He supposed he should also be thankful that they weren't chasing after him to try and kill him for daring to associate with their young princess. There were stories, some of them quite descriptive, of things that happened to males suspected of defiling females in the royal families of Wutai, and while he'd certainly never done any such thing, the Council and even Godo, to some extent, seemed suspicious of his motives in accompanying Yuffie to her homeland as she prepared to choose a suitor and marry.

With a wry, internal smile, he noted that his current position would likely win him no favors in the eyes of Yuffie's many protectors.

The footsteps padded off again, this time accompanied by consternated mumblings and an angry voice or two. When the noises had faded enough, Yuffie took her hand away from Vincent's face, although she stayed pressed against him in the dark.

"Yuffie," he said, voice full of reproving and gentle rebuke.

"I can't help it if I'm a little rough around the edges," she snarked back, humor in her tone. "My manners got a little lost when I was off saving the world, y'know?"

"Goodness, did they?" Vincent inquired sarcastically. "Mine certainly didn't."

"We can't all be perfect, now can we, Vinnie?" She reached up to tousle his hair, but missed and instead poked him in the eye.

He hissed and spat a quiet, pithy curse, and caught her hand as she attempted to retract it. They froze in the blackness.

Yuffie moved first, very carefully sliding her free hand up Vincent's claw arm, over his shoulder, and onto his face.

"What are you—" he asked, but was cut off by her finger, which again covered his lips.

"Shhh," she told him unnecessarily, and traced the lines of his face delicately with her fingertips. His breath was hot against her skin as she outlined his lips.

After a moment, Vincent shook her off, and the hand came to rest, flat against his cheek. She giggled at the light stubble that edged his jaw, and he made a low, growling noise in retaliation.

Before Yuffie could sort out their situation properly, Vincent had released her wrist, and slid his human hand up her back, to the base of her skull, his claw arm coming to rest around her waist. Her free hand, almost of its own volition, rested lightly on his shoulder.

Her breath shuddered and she whispered, "Vinnie?" into the darkness, unable to see him, but feeling him, his touch.

“Yuffie,” he acknowledged. Her hands burned on his skin, and he inhaled carefully.

“Vincent, I—”

He kissed her. Yuffie made a tiny keening noise through her nose and let him go on kissing her. Without so much as a by-your-leave, Yuffie found her arms winding passionately around his neck, as Vincent made liquid fire of her blood.

Tongue was introduced. Yuffie dizzily recalled a sloppy kiss with another ninja student, a boy from some ancient noble house or other. She'd been young, he'd been unskilled... But Vincent? Vincent was certainly skilled. With delicate fervor he drew her out of her shell and kissed her in earnest, melting her in his arms like so much wax by a flame.

“Vi-incent,” Yuffie panted, shaking her head in a break. “I—where—I, uh...” Then he'd been kissing her again. He bent her lightly backward, just enough to make her limber back stretch, and used that tension for his own nefarious purposes, namely the continued transformation of her legs, and other parts, into jelly.

It took her a long, long while to dredge up the strength to push away. But once she did so, she felt the exhilarating joy and power of his kisses and her own precocious refusal.

Yuffie pushed herself out of his arms and was gone in a sudden waterfall of laughter.

* * *

“ _Fuck,_ ” Yuffie almost giggled, her voice hysterical.

That sound was enough to draw more than just a raised eyebrow from her partner. Vincent felt all sorts of unpleasant concern for her welling in his stomach. “The situation is not _so_ bad. We are, I grant you, trapped for potentially a number of days in a cave with no company but each other, but we are often in this sort of scenario. We have enough food, and have not driven each other insane or murdered one another yet.”

Yuffie manic-giggled again. “Right. Sure. Not bad. Stuck here with Vince...Stuck here _alone_ with Vince. Stuck here alone with _Vince_.”

“Did you get enough sleep before we left?” Vincent asked suspiciously. “Or have you had caffeine tablets.”

“Caff-tabs,” she half sung in high-strung reply. Her hands jittered over her weapons, and Vincent suddenly wished he could remove them from her immediate reach.

“I believe,” he said very slowly, “That Reeve discussed with you why you should never take caffeine tabs.”

“Yeah, but who says I listen to Reevey, huh?” Yuffie abruptly challenged. “Maybe he's a spy! Maybe he's out to g-g-g-get me!” Paranoia, Vincent thought.

Her nonsense ramblings only got worse as time passed, and his concern increased incrementally by the moment. After a few hours she is crouched in a corner, shivering and muttering to her shuriken.

This is much worse that Vincent has ever seen her, so he does the only thing he can think of; he scoops her up and kisses her.

Yuffie makes exclamatory sounds against his lips for a while before she sort of gives up and becomes malleable clay in Vincent's arms. Her movements are soft and rounded and gently demanding, and the sounds she makes have become much less frantic, more relaxed and expectant and just generally extremely innocently pleased, which is playing merry hell with Vincent's libido.

She is at her most seductive, he thinks, when she is not trying to be. When Yuffie lies back in his arms and lets him touch her, or just enjoys the heat of his body, when she is stretched out like so much feline grace, that is when he feels the greatest urge towards her.

He kisses her slowly and thoroughly and her swiftly flitting mind is anchored tightly by the sheer pleasure of being held by Vincent, being kissed by him. And part of her, a part she usually ignores, is begging for more.

“Vinnie,” she gasps between kisses. “Vincent, _please_...”

He never asks her what it is she wants because he knows, and goddammit, he wants her too.

Her fingers scrabble at his cloak for a while until it falls away, then they begin to scrabble at the fastenings of his shirt, his gauntlet, his trousers...

He kicks off his own boots, which at some point became plain black leather instead of gold-plated and pointy, before divesting her swiftly of her vest, the harness she uses to clip Conformer onto her back, and the tank top she wears under it all.

He groans a little as her hands explore, and that only seems to encourage her half-innocent curiosity. In some ways she's like a kitten with a big, hoppy bug, but the comparison is so very, very Yuffie that it doesn't even begin to dismiss her appeal.

Yuffie giggles a bit to herself as Vincent lays her down on one of their bedrolls. She knows after a moment that it's his because the smell of Vinny is just enveloping her and frankly she has no objections. He's looming over her as well, and kissing down her body and making her giggle and moan and yell, and that's okay because they are all alone, alone, stuck in a cave with Vince.

He makes her wriggle and she makes him writhe. Finally divested of all layers, there is a long, studious moment wherein both survey each other's bodies.

Vincent may be going on sixty, but his body is easily that of a twenty-seven year-old. A really, really attractive twenty-seven year-old monster-hunting badass hotness, Yuffie mentally amends, and grins because she knows there's nothing for her to be ashamed of, either

And it's almost too hot in their little cavern, what with the fire and the warmth that builds between their bodies. Yuffie's wanted Vincent for so long, almost since the first day she saw him, and he has at least felt warmly towards her for that long, and finally, finally, she giggles and gasps as they move inside each other, defying the laws of physics.

After a while, a long, long while or possibly no time at all, they lie next to each other after it is finished and gaze at each other in earnest.

Yuffie's caffeine tablets have given up, leaving her exhausted and drained, pleasantly numb from the exertions and the thrill that danced along every nerve as she melded into the space that was Vincent. Vincent himself is merely tired, and still too caught up in the wonder of her body, the kind a lover holds in his eyes the first time he holds a veritable stranger in his arms, naked and mewling beneath him, waiting for him to discover her.

“Love you, Vince,” Yuffie slurs, yawning as she tucks herself into his side, a kitten once again, and Vincent looks down at his wonderful woman-child and smiles quietly.

“Goodnight, Yuffie. I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something a little lighter.


End file.
